Sometimes, Just a Little
by Scented Candles
Summary: How can something that started out so right, turn out so wrong? And can something that was broken be made whole once again? MakoHaru
1. Chapter 1

Part One: My Heart is Not in the Water

Haru stood by and watched as Makoto left in a cloud of roiling energy that needed release. He wonders if he's made a mistake. He hadn't ever seen Makoto in that state before. He makes his way out of the room he shared with Makoto (would Makoto move out and live with someone else?) and walks to the back of the house where a high fence and tall shrubbery hides them from public view. From here he could see the pool they'd had installed in their home though Haruka had tried to protest the expense.

"Haru-chan should never be without his beloved water," Makoto had said before flicking Haruka's forehead lightly with his finger. "We can afford it, we'll make room in our budget. This is our dream house after all."

The house is empty now.

Haru misses Rin.

Rin would comfort him right now.

Rin understands.

He needed that.

Haru's hand trembles. His nerves are shot to hell and back. He hates himself for hurting Makoto. But Haru had needed to know, to be sure, because there had always been this connection between him and Rin – one that defied explanation.

Makoto wasn't supposed to ever know. He and Rin had vowed that it would be their secret, this exploration of what could be between them, until such a time that they could both move forward either together or away from each other. Neither of them wanted to hurt Makoto, but it was important to be sure.

Haru had explored that spark with Rin and had been exhilarated to find it consume him entirely, the feeling akin to being pushed into the ocean, surrounded by water on all sides.

Haru's hand trembled.

There was a phantom ache in his palms.

He wants to touch Makoto, to apologize, to explain.

Things had been so much easier when they had simply been friends. He got to have all the sweetness without any of the problems that came with relationships. No strings attached, they were simply very good friends who loved each other.

And so what if Makoto loved Haru a bit more than what platonic required?

But when Makoto had confessed to him…how could Haru say no to those eyes of his? They had been 21 and Haru had just returned fresh from winning the Olympics. Makoto had called him and asked to meet. Haruka had been expecting a celebratory dinner but he hadn't expected for Makoto to voice out what had always only been an underlying current in their relationship.

"I love you Haru-chan…I always have…"

And there had been that question in his eyes, unspoken, 'will you be mine?' and Haru had said 'Okay' because it felt like the right thing to say. Because he and Makoto had been together since the beginning and Haruka didn't mind remaining by his side.

That day was almost four years ago now.

Haru pressed his palm to his eyes.

When Makoto had left, he'd looked so angry.

So hurt and so angry.

Haru wants to touch Makoto so badly his palms ached.

"You didn't tell me you and Rin stayed back without the others," Makoto had said, his voice soft and his eyes hurt.

Haruka panics for a moment and thinks he knows, but he doesn't say anything. There was no proof, only a picture of him and Rin walking out of a hotel in Seoul. They were teammates and they were childhood friends. There was nothing wrong with that.

"We decided to stay a few days after the competition finished. It's not a big deal."

"You said you and some people from the team would stay."

"Yeah."

"It was just you and Rin."

Haru let out a huff, starting to get annoyed. "We were all friends even before you and I got together. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

"I'm not asking you not to be friends with him Haru," Makoto had said. "I'm only asking that you take my feelings into consideration too."

Haru turns to look at Makoto. "I don't question you when you go out for drinks with Rei or Nagisa when I'm not there. "

It's been going on for months, this strange widening chasm that's been opening up between them. Haru feels it, knows Makoto feels it too, but he feels helpless to stop its progress because he hadn't been willing to let go of Rin. Not yet.

"Something's wrong and you won't tell me and I can't take it anymore! I'm tired. Just tell me if you've changed your mind…" Makoto had said. "I won't force myself on you. Just tell me if you don't want me anymore…"

Makoto's voice then had been so low, so hoarse.

Haru starts to shake again as he remembers the look in Makoto's eyes. That was when he realized something was terribly wrong, that there would be no bridging the gap if this went on. He hadn't been able to say anything in reply because at that moment, he had looked into Makoto's eyes and had seen that the other man was no longer looking at him as though he was the most beautiful thing in the world.

There had been a sad look in Makoto's eyes, gradually replaced by hurt and confusion and then, as the silence stretched between them, resignation.

He was giving up.

Makoto was giving up on them.

The realization had stunned Haru to immobility.

"Haru… what did I ever do to deserve this from you huh?" Makoto had asked before he turned around to walk away.

Haru had wanted to stop him, to call him back and say, "Wait, I'm sorry!" However, he didn't do any of these things. What was the use of explaining himself when he'll end up hurting Makoto more anyway? He didn't deserve forgiveness did he? He can't continue to lie and hide this thing with Rin from Makoto.

I have to confess…tell him everything…I have to stop…

Haru wishes that things could be simpler.  
Because being with Rin may be addictive and powerful, like being submerged in water but being with Makoto was…

Makoto was his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two: The Running Man

Once, his little sister had said that he reminded her of horses. He'd been surprised at first, because he'd grown so used to being likened to an Orca by Nagisa and everyone else, but Ran had made a pretty good argument for the comparison.

"It's because you always run away," she told him, "even though you can stay and fight you always choose to run away in the end."

"You mean to say I'm a coward? That's not very nice you know…" he'd admonished.

"No silly! Not a coward, never." She smiled at him. "I read in school that some horses in the races from before, they die when they reach the finish line because they ran so hard for their master that their hearts burst. I think my Makoto onii-chan is very kind, gentle, and very loving. You always give so much of yourself to other people and that's why I worry…"

Makoto had listened to Ran in surprised silence.

"Ren is the same way you know. That's why I have to be strong for both of us, so that he doesn't hurt himself trying to be nice to everyone. That's why I'm glad Haru-nii is with onii-chan…because Haru-nii protects onii-chan too."

Makoto didn't feel very kind or very gentle, or even loving at the moment. He felt hurt and confused and very, very angry. He didn't understand at all and he'd left because he wanted to crush Haru against him and demand that he explain himself.

Why?

The wind rushed past his face and Makoto kept going, his feet pushing off the pavement and propelling him forwards.

Why?

Why what? What was it really that he was asking? Who was he asking, himself or Haru?

Makoto loved him, despite everything. Makoto still loved him and he didn't want to anymore because loving Haru hurt more than he could bear sometimes.

Makoto cannot remember ever loving anyone else other than Haru. He didn't really know why he loved Haru, only that he loved everything about the other man. Every beautiful, flawed, eccentric bit of him, Makoto loved.

It hadn't been instant attraction either. Makoto had learned to love Haru, had grown to love him in time, more and more and more until it was no longer simply friendship he felt, nor brotherly love, but something different, more intimate and intensely terrifying.

It had been so wonderful in the beginning, not easy no, but certainly wonderful. They had been friends for a long time, and their closeness transitioned easily into a more romantic sort of intimacy. Being with Haru, being his lover, his boyfriend, felt no different than being Haru's friend – only they were closer, more intimate, an altogether different level of familiarity than the one they had known before.

Makoto missed it, that closeness.

He didn't know why, but somewhere along the way, they had lost it. Makoto missed him, missed the Haru that had been his lover and his friend and his life. Makoto drew strength from Haru's presence and he found himself floundering when he realized that Haru was no longer there by his side.

He didn't know what was wrong but he knew that it had something to do with Rin. He had been friends with the two of them a long time, had known the two of them for years and years, and Makoto was observant.

He was a writer. It was part of his trade.

He could tell that something was going on. A vicious voice at the back of his mind whispers his deepest fears to him but Makoto has silenced it each time and has chosen to believe in his friend and to trust in his lover instead. But its become harder and harder to do so.

Haru had been pulling away from him more and more.

Makoto was even starting to resent Rin and he hated himself for feeling something so ugly towards his friend whose only fault was to be Haru's chosen confidant. Because that was all he was, wasn't he? Simply Haru's confidant. A close friend.

"We were all friends even before you and I got together Makoto!"

"Exactly so, Haru-chan. I was your friend too, in the beginning," Makoto said as he ran his frustrations away. "Doesn't that count for something?" His feet kicked at the pavement, pushing him ever forwards with more and more speed. He was sweating through his shirt. His shoes and clothes were unsuited for such activity but Makoto didn't care.

He needed to get away because a part of him wanted to turn back and gather Haru in his arms, crush the other man against his chest. Demand that his instincts were lying to him. Because he couldn't conceive of Haru ever choosing to deliberately hurt him in this way. He wanted to feel Haru again, wanted to kiss him, punch him, shake him…

"Damn it!" Makoto cursed under his breath. He tucked his head down low and sped up, feeling a little foolishness.

What did I do Haru?

I can't apologize and make it better if you don't say anything!

Why are you doing this to us?

He tried to control his breathing when he realized that he was panting. He hadn't even been running that far and yet he was out of breath.  
He let out a broken excuse for a laugh.

Oh god, he'd been sobbing and he hadn't even realized it.

Makoto was barely aware of anything besides his thoughts, the wind rushing past him, his heartbeat, and the pounding of his feet on the pavement.

"It's because you always run away…even though you can stay and fight you always choose to run away in the end."

"You mean to say I'm a coward? That's not very nice you know…"

Something dawned on Makoto then.

I always run away…

I always run away…

Is that it?

Did Haru want him to stay?

To stay and fight?

Fight for him fight for them?

Makoto's heart thudded against his ribcage. Could that be the answer?  
He wasn't sure but he wanted to try because Haru was worth it. What they had had, before everything had gone wrong, was worth fighting for.

And if it doesn't work out, at least he had tried. What's one more hurt in a line of many? Makoto smiled and turned, heading back towards where he'd come from, back to where he knew in his heart he belonged.

Haru…

Was he still home? Did he go out? Makoto took out his phone and pressed one in his speed dial. The line on the other end rang and rang and rang.

Come on Haru-chan…

Makoto was so engrossed in thoughts of going back home and seeing Haru again that he didn't notice the car coming from the curb of the road, barreling towards him at full speed.

He was blinded by bright white lights and deafened by the blare of the horn and the screech of tires tries trying vainly to get a grip on the road.

And then, impact.

His body was thrown clear off the ground, his phone flying out of his hand and landing into a patch of grass. It faired much better than Makoto, whose body thudded harshly on the asphalt several feet away, rolling to a stop in a jumbled, broken heap.

Makoto felt several of his bones break before blessed darkness dragged him under.

A few feet away, his phone lay open and still trying to connect to the other line.

It rang and rang and rang before finally disconnecting.


End file.
